


The curious incident

by Porcelainduck



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Sad, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26529796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porcelainduck/pseuds/Porcelainduck
Summary: "I was a 15-year-old closet case whose parents pretended they didn't notice when the family dog disappeared."
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	The curious incident

**Author's Note:**

> I literally only wrote this because that quote is so deep, I feel like we've really been mugged off by not getting more content of Baz's teenage years.

I was fifteen. Fucking fifteen and everything seemed to hit me all at once. Sure, most fifteen-year-olds get acne, major voice cracks, and a growth spurt (of which I only had the growth spurt), but dare I say it, I had it worse.  _ Luckily _ it was the summer holidays. At the start, it was small things. Everything got slightly better at first; my eyesight, my hearing, my  _ sense of smell _ . I got stronger, and although that  _ could _ be just puberty, I don't think most teenage boys spend a week smashing every drinking glass they pick up. At first, I thought it was puberty. I grew five inches over that summer - without a single stretch mark might I add - and my voice  _ did _ get considerably deeper. I noticed my features getting sharper, but it wasn't  _ just _ my features that sharpened.

The day that I realised what was  _ really _ going on (or maybe just accepted it, I think I already knew), Daphne was cutting the stems of flowers to make an arrangement, and accidentally cut her finger on the scissors. I nearly threw up. My mouth suddenly felt full, the smell of iron and warmth and magic filled the air, thick and tempting. I was standing at the doorway, and all of a sudden I could  _ hear _ her heartbeat, I could feel it in my fingertips. I knew what I wanted, so I ran. I ran into my room and locked the door. My bedroom has an ensuite, so instantly I looked in my mirror, opening my mouth, and seeing it full of ivory daggers. I touched my finger to the end of one, barely placing any pressure, but the point was so sharp that it broke the skin. I took a deep breath, and smelled the faint scent of my stepmother's blood on the air, and began to cry. It wasn't long before my teeth were at least mostly back to normal, but I could still feel something in me that ached for the taste of blood.

I stayed locked in my room for a week. Daphne would leave meals outside my door three times a day, and nobody asked questions. I can only assume that they had seen the small things and understood that this wasn't just a teenage strop. On the fifth day of that week, my fangs didn't retract. I was so  _ hungry _ that whenever anyone so much as walked past my room, I could hear their heartbeat, sense their blood pumping, smell them so intensely I felt like I was suffocating. On the sixth day I had begun to shake. I felt like I was  _ dying _ , I was so thirsty. But I was so scared of what might happen if I even unlocked my door that I didn't even eat regular food. The seventh day… Did you know that I used to have a family dog? It was a great dane, unsurprisingly, and it was called Paddington. I  _ loved _ that dog so, so much. When my mother died, it was seemingly the only thing that could really comfort me, he was so friendly and excitable, and I… On the seventh day I looked in the mirror and didn't even recognize my own face. I was grey and thin and my lips wouldn't even close properly over my expanse of teeth. My eyes were all pupil, my hair was a greasy mess, and I couldn't think of anything but  _ blood _ . I wasn't thinking straight, and honestly, I'm glad it was Paddington, and not one of my sisters whose heartbeat was filling my senses and blinding me completely. I unlocked the door, and it swung open. I would say that I  _ saw _ him sitting there, but I don't think I did. I just pounced. I lost all control and before I knew it, I was gulping down thick mouthfuls, my teeth in his neck and my head slowly clearing. I drained that dog so dry that it resembled more of an oversized raisin than a dead dog by the end. They later had to get in an industrial cleaner to remove the red stains from the hardwood flooring of the hallway. I showered in my clothes, leaving them in a sopping pile in my bathtub when I was done. I changed into fresh clothes and picked up the former household pet, carrying it outside before burying it. Even though I had used a spell, and there wasn't a spec of dirt on me, I showered again. I felt like I'd never be clean, like Lady Macbeth,  _ out damned spot _ . I fell asleep the second I was dry again. When I woke up, I cried for twenty four hours straight.

I was lucky really. I learned my limits pretty quickly, there was a forest nearby where I could feast on live stock. A couple of times, I forgot about my fangs popping when I ate, and Mordelia cried when she saw them. She was scared of me the whole summer. In all fairness,  _ I _ was scared of me the whole summer too. I think my father was as well, but it's difficult to tell anything with him. Maybe he was just scared for me, scared what was going to happen to me if anyone found out. Not that my undeadness was much of an issue by the next summer. I had different worries then.

That school year was the worst of my life. I thought I was in trouble going to school with my… eating issues, but I had no  _ idea _ how much of an affect the people around me would have. Well, one person in particular. A certain  _ unnamed roommate _ , who was  _ far _ hotter than I'd remembered him. That year was a battle of lust and bloodlust, and I came out the victor, although it didn't feel that way.  _ Especially _ when that summer my father found a certain stash that didn't contain a single female. It's almost funny when your father's more ashamed of you potentially sucking other boys off than potentially sucking the life out of them. 

It's ironic, really, that I had chosen the chosen one, well, I wouldn't say chose. Honestly, if it had been up to me at the time, I would've much preferred  _ choosing _ Wellbelove, or one of the other girls who shot longing glances my way. But that's besides the point. I chose  _ you _ , Simon. The person who would literally disappoint my father the most. And maybe that was some kind of subconscious force that was willing me away from the norm of my family, or maybe it was just because you were my roommate, but I was so drawn to you then. Crowley, I still am. Maybe now more than ever, considering everything we've been through. I'm with you now because with you is where I belong.

I'm not sure why I wanted to tell you this, but I think I just needed you to know. It's not like me to ramble, but here I am, rambling. I think I just want you to understand. I don't want you to feel sorry for me, I don't want you to think less of me because of this _ ; please _ don't think less of me because of this. I think I just want you to know that life  _ is _ hard,  _ especially _ for you, my love. Times are changing for you, a new era lies ahead, but we can face it together. You've gone through so much, but please never think that you have to do this alone. I will  _ always _ be here for you.

Love always, Baz x

That was the letter I found on the pillow next to mine when I woke up this morning. Baz had stayed the night, we slept in the same bed, not that we  _ slept _ together, but I knew he had to leave early in the morning, I knew he'd be gone when I woke up. I wonder when he wrote it. Did he wait for me to fall asleep? Did he write it while watching me sleep? It's funny how Baz is. Maybe it's because of the amount of time we've spent together over the years, but he knows me better than anyone. He can always sense when something is off, when I need space or comfort or nothing at all. He  _ knew _ I needed this. I  _ did _ need this.

His handwriting is long and beautiful (if I'm honest), it looks as if it's dancing in loops across the page (because it's  _ Baz _ , and everything about him is elegant and stunning). I kiss the page, because I've gone completely soft, and read it again, and again. I let the words fill me, and I let myself see this for what it is. Baz is spilling his heart onto a page for me to read, because he  _ knows _ how much I need this right now. Maybe he's gone a little soft too. I open my wardrobe and get a shoebox off the shelf at the top, opening it to put this letter inside. This isn't the first letter Baz has left me, and I hope to god it won't be the last. This one was special though, this was just  _ him _ . His others were almost careful in what he let himself write, this was, as he said, rambling. I love it. I love  _ him _ . I should tell him that, I really should. If he were here right now, I would. But I doubt there'll be enough of me there the next time I see him. There's barely enough of me now.

I scrawl a note quickly. There's always a pen and paper on Baz's side of my bed, so it's not too much effort. My handwriting is shit, but I'm slipping away again, so I don't actually care. I fold the small piece of paper in half, and leave it on his pillow. I want him to find it himself, like I found his, but I never visit him at his Aunt's, and it's not like there's much else I can bring myself to do. I'm fading again, and I manage to collapse on the living room sofa and switch on the TV before I'm gone completely. I think Penny walks in and says something, but I'm underwater and she's so far away. 

Baz probably won't even find my note, but I don't care. I don't even know if it's true anymore, if  _ I love you _ holds any meaning when you don't even have enough of yourself left to really mean it. If all that's left of me is a scrap piece of paper, then maybe it's best that he never gets it. Maybe it's best that I slip away completely.

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you were wondering, this is set between Carry On and Wayward Son, in case you hadn't already guessed lol


End file.
